Once inside, I closed the door, locked it, and flipped the light switch that controlled a nearby electric socket, and the room was illuminated in the soft ambient light of my floor lamp. I looked at the clock on the wall: 5:08. I'd made it. I'd survived. I felt something break in my mind, but I didn't know what, exactly, it was, and I was too tired to care. Mami Mikanae slowly explored my modest home. I had a pretty simple lifestyle. "Streamlined," I liked to call it. My home wasn't bare, but just simply furnished. While almost everything had a practical purpose, I'd taken care and time to select functional objects of unique or beautiful appearance. My home had character and peace, which was important to me when I sought refuge from the hectic and polluted outside world. Mami Mikanae returned from the bathroom to inform me that I had no bathtub, almost as if she'd expected me to be unaware of the fact. Instead, I had an elongated shower, with the shower head at one end and small seats protruding from both. It was perfect for me. Sometimes, I liked to just sit under the hot spray, as if to rest as the water washed the difficulties of my complicated contemporary life away. More peace. Mami Mikanae, however frowned at this, and I couldn't understand why. Suddenly, I realized that she'd intended to take a bath, and I was dissatisfied with my peaceful shower for the first time. She saw my face reveal my disappointment, and spoke quickly to assuage me. "It's totally okay," reaching out to take my hand. "Come with me." She led me out of the entry way, and I deposited my keys in their customary position on the bureau. She led me slowly to the bathroom, where she released my hand and turned the hot water of the shower on.